


Tie (prompt #1)

by pinebluffvariant



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4750187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinebluffvariant/pseuds/pinebluffvariant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shopping for new work clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tie (prompt #1)

“Hello?”

“You know it’s me.” He did. “What are you doing?”

“I’m shopping. And I hope you’re using your bluetooth.” He could tell she was driving from the white noise over the sound of her breathing. 

“I am, I am. Do you need help?”

He needed help understanding how to live some kind of life again is what he needed help with. “No. It’s okay. It’s uh… I just need a couple new ties.”

She was quiet on the other end, and he swore he could hear her breath hitch for a second. “No novelties, okay? For me?”

“No novelties, Scully. I’m thoroughly tamed. Talk to you later.” He hung up.

The J Crew Men’s Store was busy. Raising his head and summoning that investigator’s gaze, so rusty and off its game, he estimated this retail establishment to be composed of 55% skinny women under 40 shopping for their boyfriends, and 45% skinny men under 40 shopping for themselves or their boyfriends. And him.

Mulder usually shopped online at LL Bean. His favorites were the waffle henleys and scotch plaid flannel shirts, and he took a small amount of pride in being one of those middle-aged guys who bought his shirts in slim fit. Just like prison, self employment from home and involuntary singlehood made for ideal conditions to focus seriously on your fitness. 

But what happens when you get out? He’d signed the waivers and affidavits, by some miracle passed the psych screening and background check, he’d sat next to Scully and reclaimed custody of their feral little child, the office in the basement. What happens when you get out, as he’d seen many times with witnesses, with victims and with recidivist offenders, is you take one day at a time and try your best not to betray those who against all odds still love you.

He wandered around, touched some shoes - nice - and saw that distressed jeans had somehow come back into style. Now he’d practice his regular guy shopper voice. “Excuse me,” he asked the extremely tall sales guy whose waist couldn’t be thicker than 28 inches and who for some reason spent his retail paycheck on Ralph Lauren wingtips. “Where can I find the ties?” The guy smiled condescendingly and pointed over to the far corner, by the display of wool socks on steep sale.

It was really unbecoming for men to try to recapture their youth. It only made you look older. He put down the zany blue and green tie with geometric shapes. Then he put down the purple paisley number, though that one was really, objectively very nice. 

Think of the whole package, Mulder, he told himself, and imagined his two new suits. Wool soft as a cat’s belly and grey as the November Vineyard sky. He knew that at some point, Scully would find a way to sneak a peek at the labels inside the jackets. Maybe, if he was lucky, while he was still wearing wearing them. He hoped she would like what she saw; the Boss hadn’t come cheap, and neither had his body.

Somehow he found himself in the store’s largest dressing room, surrounded by subtle herringbone pants and narrow-collared shirts in the most discreet of stripes. About ten different ties asked to be chosen.

She’d be home by now, probably uncorking some wine, alone, without him. He wanted to make her feel something. He dialed her number. “Hey, Scully. I need your help with something. Yes everything’s fine. Listen, I’ll give you a few choices and you tell me what you prefer, okay?” He look at himself in the mirror, mentally putting together combinations. “Grey or blue?”

“… blue.” He moved the grey suit over to the reject side.

“Hmm, okay, white or vertical stripes?”

“White. Is this a shirt?”

“Maybe. So white?”

“White,” she confirmed. He moved the striped shirts, all three of them. Next for the tie.

“Okay now pay attention, the list is kind of long. One, black with grey aliens; two, red with blue squares that kind of… wobble; three, green with mallards in flight and a bloodhound leaping at them; four, black. HUGE red tomatoes.”

Dead silence on the other end, and then he heard her take a big gulp of that wine. “Um…”

“I’m just kidding, Scully. How does red with grey and cream diagonal stripes sound?”

She exhaled audibly. “Sounds discreet. Are you sure you’re you?”

“Oh god, I hope so. Thanks for your help.”

“Any time,” she said. “Don’t get trampled by the kids out there, okay?” She hung up.

He looked over at her selections. Nice. He’d look like he was going to a casual wedding. But maybe that’s what this whole thing was, anyway? A renewal of vows. He stripped off his LL Bean ensemble and dressed carefully. He took out his phone and fumbled with the camera, took a picture in the mirror, and texted it to her. 

For five minutes he sat in the dressing room with the suit on, waiting. Finally, his phone chimed. “Very nice.” She was still typing. “But the shirt needs ironing already. Why don’t you come over and I’ll help you out with that.”

He grinned, changed, and went to pay.


End file.
